The Hour Past Bewilderbeast

It's no secret that once you've gotten on Pitchfork's bad side that you ain't comin back.  The only thing the magazine loves more than holding a grudge is pretending to struggle not to.

Certain bands are given a protection clause, which gives them a few albums to muck up before being thrown to the fire.  Perennial favorites like Radiohead or The White Stripes are included here.  But most receive the termination of contract notice in the mail and will never regain their former status.  The Eels, Ryan Adams and Pedro the Lion have all produced slump-ceasing records which have regained for them some respect elsewhere while they continue to dig through dumpsters at Pitchfork.  It's a bit like an individual who has gone through a difficult and public divorce...  They may rebuild their lives into something truly joyful, but they'll never fully discard their painful past, and those who saw the painful moments will never be able to look at them the same.  Damien Gough, the Badly Drawn Boy, is a member of the Pitchfork Pit of Eternal Despair and proves so with his latest album One Plus One is One.

But what's interesting in the Pitchfork review of the album is the introduction's focus on Gough's weird tie to another on Pitchfork's blacklist...  Nick Hornby.

Hornby is part of this weird group of fringe mainstream writers who, upon receiving commercial success, began attempts to yank increasingly popular underground artists into the mainstream light.  These artists became Lottery millionaires who really could have earned their own way to wealth but now stand without legitimacy to their riches.  It's the classic story of the one-hit wonders and the sell-outs.  It's just that instead of a faceless money-hungry corporation, the source is a creator who wants to share their achievements with other artists they respect.  What makes it even weirder is that the benefactors enter and set up residence in the world of those they benefact.  Nick Hornby's venture in music criticism and Michael Chabon's work with comics are probably the two most prevalent, current examples.  In both these cases, neither has earned their right to the new land they've staked out, they've just gone in and taken it (as a provision of the Fair Housing Act?).

The result of it all is hollow wish fulfillment that depletes both parties.  I'm not saying that it's a bad thing to donate one's fame or wealth to those below you.  The detrimental thing is to graft one's self to a championed cause as opposed to feeding it so that it can grow.